“What I wish say Miss Blood is,” he began,--“what I wish say is, peculiar circumstances make no difference with man if man's gentleman. What I say is, everybody 'spec's--What I say is, circumstances don't alter cases; lady's a lady--What I want do is beg you fellows' pardon--beg _her_ pardon--if anything I said that firs' morning--” “Go away!” cried Staniford, beginning to whiten round the nostrils. “Hold your tongue!” Hicks fell back a pace, and looked at him with the odd effect of now seeing him for the first time. “What _you_ want?” he asked. “What you mean? Slingin' criticism ever since you came on this ship! What you mean by it? Heh? What you mean?” Staniford rose, and Lydia gave a start. He cast an angry look at her. “Do you think I'd hurt him?” he demanded. Hicks went on: “Sorry, very sorry, 'larm a lady,--specially lady we all respec'. But this particular affair. Touch--touches my honor. You said,” he continued, “'f I came on deck, you'd knock me down. Why don't you do it? Wha's the matter with you? Sling criticism ever since you been on ship, and 'fraid do it! 'Fraid, you hear? 'F-ic--'fraid, I say.” Staniford slowly walked away forward, and Hicks followed him, threatening him with word and gesture. Now and then Staniford thrust him aside, and addressed him some expostulation, and Hicks laughed and submitted. Then, after a silent excursion to the other side of the ship, he would return and renew his one-sided quarrel. Staniford seemed to forbid the interference of the crew, and alternately soothed and baffled his tedious adversary, who could still be heard accusing him of slinging criticism, and challenging him to combat. He leaned with his back to the rail, and now looked quietly into Hicks's crazy face, when the latter paused in front of him, and now looked down with a worried, wearied air. At last he crossed to the other side, and began to come aft again. “Mr. Dunham!” cried Lydia, starting up. “I know what Mr. Staniford wants to do. He wants to keep him away from me. Let me go down to the cabin. I can't walk; _please_ help me!” Her eyes were full of tears, and the hand trembled that she laid on Dunham's arm, but she controlled her voice. He softly repressed her, while he intently watched Staniford. “No, no!” “But he can't bear it much longer,” she pleaded. “And if he should--” “Staniford would never strike him,” said Dunham, calmly. “Don't be afraid. Look! He's coming back with him; he's trying to get him below; they'll shut him up there. That's the only chance. Sit down, please.” She dropped into her seat, hid her eyes for an instant, and then fixed them again on the two young men. Hicks had got between Staniford and the rail. He seized him by the arm, and, pulling him round, suddenly struck at him. It was too much for his wavering balance: his feet shot from under him, and he went backwards in a crooked whirl and tumble, over the vessel's side.